


The Right Choice

by piratesPencil



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Magic, Disabled Character, Gen, Introspection, Paralysis, Sibling Bonding, Soren-centric (The Dragon Prince), au where claudia's healing spell doesn't stick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 19:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratesPencil/pseuds/piratesPencil
Summary: Claudia's healing spell isn't as permanent as she'd hoped.(Branches off after the end of season 2.)
Relationships: Claudia & Soren (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	The Right Choice

It starts three days after they leave the town where they fought the dragon.

It’s just a faint numbness at first, in his fingers and his toes. Everything still hurts—walking hurts, _breathing_ hurts—so it’s easy to ignore. But then the numbness spreads to his feet and his hands, and by the fourth day he can barely stand.

“Hey, Claudia?” he says, on that fourth evening, when they’ve bedded down for the night. The horses are hobbled nearby, and the town guards who agreed to escort them back to Katolis are settled by their own campfire downwind.

“Yeah, Sor?”

She’s been quieter than usual since they left. Since she did that spell on him. He can’t stop looking at that shock of white in her hair. It scares him.

“I don’t… I think your spell might be wearing off.”

He regrets it the second the words leave his mouth. The look of panic on her face is bad enough, but the look of grim determination that quickly replaces it is somehow worse.

He wouldn’t have told her if he had a choice, be he _knows_ that by tomorrow he won’t be able to move at all again, and he can’t exactly hide that from her.

“It’s okay, though, Clauds,” he says quickly. “If you can’t—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, standing up and brushing dust from her pants. “I can refresh the spell. Just give me a couple hours, tops.”

“Claudia, wait—”

But she’s already gone, sweeping off into the darkness of the forest alone. He wants to go after her, but he can barely stand. It’s not that she can’t take care of herself—she’ll be fine in the forest alone—but it’s what she’s going to go do that scares him.

He doesn’t know how she did the spell that brought feeling and movement back into his paralyzed body. He didn’t ask. He doesn’t usually ask about her spells, or about their dad’s. When they were young, his dad tried to teach both of them dark magic, but only Claudia had the knack for it.

He’s never admitted it, but they all know. Dark magic scares Soren.

It’s easier to let Claudia do her thing and not ask questions.

But whatever spell she performed on him four days ago was so much _more_ than anything he’s ever seen her do before. Of course, she isn’t usually doing the magic on _him_ , but when those arcs of lightning had lit up across his body, he’d _felt_ a chilling darkness that had almost overshadowed his joy at being able to feel and move again.

He’d been thrilled, but it had also felt so very, very _wrong_.

And worse than that, he’d seen what the spell had done to his sister. How drained she’d been after performing the spell. And when he’d asked her if she was okay… She’d only said that _he_ would be okay. Not that she would be.

He’s afraid that if she does too many spells like that, she really won’t be okay.

* * *

He dozes off despite the worry wracking his mind. His body is still trying desperately to recover from the wounds that the dragon inflicted on him, and it’s exhausting work.

When he wakes up to a rustling sound near his head, his body is almost as numb and unmoving as it was right after the dragon fight.

A flash of panic courses through him. Their campfire burnt out while he was asleep, and in the dark he can barely make out the shifting shadows of the forest. Distantly, he can hear some of the guards on night watch, but he can’t see them from where he’s lying, and he can’t move to look for them or protect himself or _anything_.

He was trying to put on a brave face for Claudia the other day, when he said that he was fine like this, and he wasn’t lying when he said that he was relieved that he wouldn’t be able to kill the princes anymore. Wouldn’t be able to make any more stupid, dangerous, terrible mistakes.

But he _was_ lying when he said that he was fine. Because he isn’t fine. This isn’t fine at all. This is scary and it’s horrifying and he has never felt more unsafe in his entire life.

And then Claudia pops out of the bushes next to him and fills his field of view.

“Hey, Sor,” she says cheerily.

He almost shrieks, but she slaps a hand over his mouth before he can.

“Shhh, we don’t need the guards to come over here,” she hisses.

He licks her hand and she pulls it away with a gagging sound. “Gross,” she says.

He sticks his tongue out at her in victory, and then asks, “Why don’t you want the guards to come over here?”

She makes a face, not meeting his eyes, and shrugs. “I work better when I’m not being watched?”

He doesn’t think that’s true. But he _does_ think that she doesn’t want to be watched doing… whatever it is she’s about to do, and he doesn’t like that at all.

“What are you going to do, Clauds?” he asks.

“I told you. Refresh the spell.”

He narrows his eyes at her.

“I’ve never heard Dad talk about refreshing spells.”

She pushes her hair out of her face nervously. “Yeah, well, some spells don’t… stick right away. It’s fine.”

“How often are you going to have to refresh this spell, Claudia?”

“I don’t know, okay, Soren?” she says, starting to lose her cool. “Hopefully this time it’ll take, but if not, I’ll refresh it every _day_ if I have to.”

“You can’t do that, Claudia! I saw what this spell did to you. If you have to do this spell _every day_ , you’ll die.”

Her face is grim. “I’ll be fine,” she says.

“No, Claudia, you won’t.”

She doesn’t answer him. She ducks back into the bushes and he’s powerless to stop her. He could shout for the guards, but even now he’s too loyal to her to do that.

And then he hears a sound from behind the bushes that chills him. It sounds… wet. He tries to place the sound, and by the time he realizes that it’s a sound he’s only ever heard coming from inside the castle butcher’s shed, Claudia has already reappeared from behind the bushes, her eyes glowing and sparking, lightning dancing and crackling up her arms.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything. She speaks in her spooky, twisted tongue, and then those arcs of lighting are dancing across his skin. He tries to cry out, but her hands are pressed to his mouth again, silencing him, and he can only endure the shocking pain in silence.

Their eyes meet, his wide and scared, hers cold and glowing. He’s terrified.

And then, just like before, he falls back to the ground, shaken but feeling… reinvigorated. _Good_ , even. Sure, his body still aches, but he can _feel_ and he can _move_ and he feels like he just drank five shots of Claudia’s hot brown morning potion.

Her eyes return to normal. She slumps beside him, panting, her hands falling from his mouth.

“Did it… work?” she gasps.

He almost wants to say no, just to make her stop. But he feels so _good_ now, and he can actually sit up and hug her to him as he says, “Yeah, it worked. Thanks, Clauds.”

The guards come running up a moment later, drawn by the sparking light of the spell.

“Are you two okay?” one of the guards asks warily, at the sight of them sitting by their dead fire, clutching each other.

“We’re fine,” Soren says, just as Claudia lifts her head and says, “Just doing some midnight magic practice. You know what they say. No time is the wrong time to perfect your craft!”

The guards exchange a confused look, and then they shrug and wander away to continue their watch.

“See?” Claudia says, turning back to Soren with a tired smile. “We’re fine.”

* * *

The good news is that Claudia doesn’t have to refresh the spell every day. The bad news is that she _does_ need to refresh it every five days or so. If he paces himself, Soren can almost last a week on one dose of Claudia’s healing magic, but by the fifth or sixth day his body has gone numb and unresponsive again.

It’s a long journey back to Katolis. It would be a long journey no matter what, but between Soren’s injuries, his constantly failing body, and the way Claudia is getting slower and slower after every time she uses her healing spell, they’re advancing at a snail’s pace.

They ditch their guards at the next big town they come across. It’s safer to travel with guards, of course, especially considering the state they’re both in, but eventually they reach a sort of unspoken agreement that this is a slow journey they have to make on their own. The closer they get to home, the slower they go.

“I’m scared to see Dad again,” Soren admits, when they’ve been on the road for almost a month. They should have returned to Katolis, their missions accomplished, weeks ago. He wonders what their dad thinks. That the missions were harder to accomplish than he thought? That they gave up?

That they died?

Will he even be happy to learn that they didn’t?

“Don’t say that,” Claudia says, stirring the warm berry mush that she concocted over their small campfire.

It’s been three days since Claudia last did her healing magic on him, and he’s starting to feel the returning numbness. She looks so _tired_ , though, that he forced himself to hobble around their campsite collecting the berries for her. He hopes he didn’t pick any poison ones this time. The food poisoning he gave them last week added at least four days to their already glacial journey.

“Why not?” he challenges, pulling his cape tighter around himself. It’s starting to get cold. They’re going to have to reach home soon whether they want to or not—there’s no way they can keep traveling like this once winter starts to show its face. “We both know it’s true. Dad’s a scary guy, especially when you disappoint him. And, dragon horn or not, we _both_ failed our missions. I mean, who knows where the princes are now? They could have made their way to Xadia and back to Katolis again while we’ve been out here crawling our way back home. Dad probably already hates us.”

“Don’t _say_ that!” Claudia snaps, and she throws her spoon at him. It hits him on the side of the face, leaving a streak of warm berry mush behind.

“Ow, hey, don’t throw things at the disabled guy,” he jokes, picking the spoon up and throwing it back at her weakly.

Her angry face gets even angrier. “Don’t say _that_ , either! You’re not disabled, Soren! You’re… you’re fine.”

He blinks at her. He didn’t even really mean to say it. It just came out, the kind of dumb wisecrack they always throw at each other. But it’s true, isn’t it? Her spells are just a bandaid.

“I… I am, Claudia,” he says slowly, a revelation to himself as much as to her. “I am disabled. I’m always going to be… like this, aren’t I? Your spells aren’t… it’s not real healing. It’s just pretend. It just makes it seem like I’m okay for a few days, but reality keeps coming back. It’s like the doctors said back in town. I’m never going to walk again. Not for real.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Claudia shouts. She stands up and then she _punches_ him, and he goes sprawling backwards. Her punches are _strong_ , damn.

He rubs his jaw, staring up at her.

“I’m busting my ass every _week_ just to keep you walking, and you’re saying that it’s… pretend? Fake? It’s not fake, Soren! Magic is real! It’s hard and it requires sacrifice but it’s _real_ , and don’t you dare say otherwise!”

Her face is red with anger. There are tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. He realizes that it’s not just a single shock of white hair, anymore. There are silver hairs sprinkled throughout her black locks. It makes her look older. More tired. Have there always been faint wrinkles around her eyes?

“Okay, okay,” he concedes. “It’s real. It’s real. But, Claudia…” He takes a deep breath, because it’s a hard choice to make, even though he knows it’s the only one. “I want you to stop.”

She freezes, her hands in fists at her sides. “Stop what?” she asks carefully.

“You know what,” he says. “Stop healing me. Stop using that spell every few days. Just… stop.”

“I can’t _stop_!” she shouts. “If I stop then that’s it. You won’t be able to walk. You won’t be able to _move_. This is the only spell, Soren, it’s the best we can do. I don’t think even Dad knows a healing spell more powerful than this one.”

“Then that’s okay,” he says. “I told you before, Claudia, I’m okay with this. And, okay, maybe _poet_ isn’t my true calling, but I’ll figure something out. I really will! I’m not the first person to get hurt in combat, Claudia. Veterans make do all the time.”

“Veterans make do with a missing eye or a bad leg, Soren! Not completely paralyzed!”

“They do, Claudia. They have to. They don’t all have sisters who are willing to kill themselves to help them.”

Claudia’s eyes go wide, and then the tears in the corners of her eyes start spilling down her cheeks. She crumples to her knees, and even though his body is rebelling against him, Soren gets to his feet and staggers over to her so he can hold her.

“I wish I was strong enough,” she hiccups, and he rubs her back the way he remembers their mom doing, so many years ago. “If I was a stronger mage, maybe the spell would have stuck the first time, but I’m afraid now I’ve messed it up for good, and even if Dad could do it…”

“It’s okay, Claudia,” he repeats. “I’m going to be okay. Because I’ll have you, okay? And if I lost you because you were trying to help me… _That’s_ something I wouldn’t be able to live with.”

She hiccups again, crying softly. He doesn’t want to ask this, but he feels like he has to. Every time she did the spell on him, it haunted the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside because of how _good_ he felt.

But now he has to ask.

“What did you sacrifice, Clauds? Every time you did the spell? Other than, you know, your own strength.”

“What do you mean?” she asks softly.

“I know how dark magic works. It always requires a sacrifice. What were you always going off into the forest to find?”

She goes silent. Then, very quietly, “You really don’t want to know.”

“I have to know, Claudia. Whatever it is went into _my_ body, if you think about it. I deserve to know.”

Another long silence, and then, barely a whisper, “Babies.”

He drops his hands and recoils from her. “ _Babies?!_ ”

“Not human babies!” she says quickly, her eyes wide and panicked. “Usually deer babies. Sometimes fox babies or banther babies or even mouse babies one time, but it took _so many_ mouse babies that it wasn’t cost effective at all. Mostly deer babies, though. They work the best.”

He blinks at her. He doesn’t know how to feel. He remembers the sound he heard that one night, the wet squelch of the butcher’s shed, and bile rises in the back of his throat.

“What?” she says defensively, hugging her arms to herself. “You eat meat! Lamb chops are just baby sheep. Why is this any worse?”

He bites his lip. She’s right, in a way. Animals of all ages get killed all the time, for food or for resources, or just because they’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But he can just imagine her, snapping the neck of some baby deer, drinking in its life force to throw it into his body in the form of sparking, crackling lightning, and it just feels _wrong_ all over again.

“It’s not worth it, Claudia,” he says. But he reaches for her again, and he sees the relief flood across her face when she realizes that he isn’t pushing her away. “It’s not worth your life force or theirs. I promise you I’ll be okay.”

She nestles closer against him. They haven’t been this touchy-feely since they were little kids, but it feels good and warm and comforting to hug his sister like this.

“Okay,” she says finally. “If you’re sure.”

He swallows hard. He knows it won’t be easy. He knows the choice he’s making is hard, that the life ahead of him will be scary and new and never, ever easy. He won’t get to hold his sister like this again. He won’t get to hold anyone like this, won’t get to _feel_ them in his arms.

But he knows it’s the right choice, for Claudia and for himself, and he’ll find new ways to feel, new ways to be.

“I’m sure,” he says, and he is.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic as soon as I finished watching season 2 because as much as I _love_ Claudia choosing to sacrifice the deer for Soren as a turning point for her character, I also think it would have been _really_ interesting to see Soren actually having to learn how to adapt to living with his paralysis... So I basically went "why not both?" and wrote this.


End file.
